The Select Few
by DazzledxInk
Summary: AH; Edward/Isabella POV: - What makes them different from other people, is what initially draws Isabella and Edward together. But it's the consequences to what they are, that will drive them apart.


**_Isabella _**

It was shocking how much I looked like my mother. Time had wrinkled her face and age had softened a brown eyed stare that had once been fierce, but this photo showed a version of my mom before her life had changed her. Looking at it made me suddenly sick to my stomach. Maybe my mother and I were two drastically different people, but she was still such a big part of who I was. I could see it, right there in that photo, as she cuddled comfortably beneath my father's sharp face with a navy blue blanket pulled up gingerly toward her chest. Her eyes were wide and brown, framed with the thickest of dark lashes. Her smile was dimpled in away that will always make her look childish. She looked...just As I did now. Which seemed pretty accurate, as the date of the photo put her at about 17. I had never really considered that I looked like my mom. She carried herself so differently that I had even questioned, on multiple occasions, if we were of the same species.

My mother had given me her features, except on me it was somehow different. Muted, soft and hidden beneath frizzed hair. My warm colored skin was paler still than my mother's sun-kissed tone. She soaked up sun like a sponge and it radiated from her. She knew she was beautiful, and amplified that confidence with the right clothes and perfectly styled hair. She was always whining at me to wear dresses, to go to dances, to date and to be in all other ways, a normal teenage girl.

I was always a disappointment to my mom in that sense. I was never the giggly, girly daughter that she envisioned she would have. I would see the slight frown form on her face when I turned down shopping to stay home and read. When I told her I wasn't going to prom, it was like when other children tell their parents they are pregnant. She was always so concerned with making me normal and social. She was all about appearances, hosting dinner parties and entertaining neighbors. I was like the aggressive dog that had to be kept outside because I would in some way spoil the fun. Being a hermit like my dad drove her nuts. I had always assumed that her insistence upon how to act was an inconvenience, until she didn't do it anymore. She reached the point when she stopped asking me to do things, and it was like she had given up on me. I had made the decision to move in with my dad, a decision I had made quickly and without any uncertainty. Except just then.

My thumb rubbed against the gloss of the photo. Moving away may only further that distance that had begun to creep between us and I didn't want to completely loose what relationship I had with my mom. I didn't want to make any more terrible mistakes.

"You ready, Ella?" I turned to see my mom's head peering into my bedroom, her eyes curious and impatient. She looked like the version of her that I was use to, apart from the rare strands of curls that were escaping her bun. Were she to catch it in a reflection, she would correct it, like a misplaced hair was a crime.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I tucked the photo into the pocket of my jacket. If I regretted moving in with my father, maybe there was a chance for me to come back. Except I just couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't belong here. That my mother, her husband and her new baby were a picture I just didn't fit into. At one point there was no other place in this world I could imagine belonging than beside my mom, but that felt like a long time ago.

"Phil is taking your bags to the taxi now,"She smiled an exhausted smile, shifting baby Luke onto her other hip as I approached the doorway. Of course Phil was getting my bags. She had asked him to. If my mother had asked Phil to dye his hair blue, he would be asking "Indigo or Navy?". I suppose that was just fine. They liked things that way. They were happy. So very, disgustingly happy. "I really should be taking you to the airport," She frowned, suddenly as unsure of everything as I was becoming.

"It's fine, mom," I smiled at my brother as he slobbered on a toy. He didn't look like my mom, or me. There was no dark coloring to any part of him. Like Phil, he was fair and blushing and his eyes were a strange sort of blue. "You've got a lot going on,"

My mom smiled a soft smile. "Thanks, baby girl," She bounced Luke on her hip. "Do you have all your medication?"

I blushed. "Yes,"

She nodded, fixing Luke's shirt that had begun to rise up his belly. "Call once you land,"

I nodded, pulling my last bag up and over my shoulder. I wouldn't call her and she would not expect a call. She'd be so busy, that it would be days before she's think to check on how I was settling in. Even then, she'd be too distracted to listen. Watching her sooth a suddenly whiny baby, I had the thought that I may finally be able to sleep on a regular schedule (what will all the crying Luke liked to do at 2 in the morning.) If anything, that's something to look forward to.

I watched the two of them disappear behind the door of Luke's nursery, then turned to walk down the hallway. Phil stood beside the front door, pushing his glasses up his nose with his thumb. He was tall, lanky and so very different from my father. When she had first met him, I had wondered if she had picked him for that reason alone, because my mother never went for the skinny, nerdy type. I had assumed he was another rebound, but soon enough he was standing in front of me, awkward and nervous, adjusting his glasses while he explained that he would be moving in. Maybe I knew my mom just about as well as she knew me.

"Gone to give Luke a nap?" He asked, glancing behind me.

"I think so," I said, stopping awkwardly at the doorway."Thanks for getting my bags,"

"Not a problem," He said, smiling a closed mouth smile. I don't think Phil liked me very much. I couldn't blame him, given the sort of issues I'd been having. But his aloofness still sort of stung."Enjoy your last year of school,"

School. I rolled my eyes but forced a smile, walking out into the hot Florida sun. Everyone was going to be just fine without me, here. My family, my old friends...Jacob. I pushed the thought away. To think of him right now would be to destroy any chance I would have to forget about all that had happened and finally move on.

* * *

I jolted awake, startled for a quick moment before the room settled into familiarity. Right, I was at Charlie's. I grunted, rolling back under the covers. No, I couldn't have fallen asleep. I peaked hesitantly from my blanket and toward the window. The sky was overcast and the window was streaked with rain. In a town like this, you never knew the time of day, because the world was grey from morning to night. I reached my hand out from the covers, grabbing at my phone to check the time. The white light read 1:32pm.

"Ugh," I sighed, rolling to sit up. The bags I hadn't yet unpacked were still pressed up against the opposing wall. It was a sure sign of my laziness, considering that I only had 8 bags to begin with. I'd been officially back in Washington for two days and spent roughly that entire time locked away in my room, reading my favorite novels and obsessing over how wonderful it was to live in quiet. My dad's job had him away for the next couple days, as it sometimes did. He hadn't even been home when I arrived. The taxi had drove up the long gravel driveway to the house, every window dark. The blackness made me nervous and I began to wonder why I hadn't just agreed to come up a few days later. Missing the first couple days of school didn't seem such a big deal then, when I started pulling my bags from the trunk and walking toward the shadowed house alone. It was eerie without a person in it, empty in a way beyond the obvious. Growing up, I can remember him being gone for weeks at a time at some points, and my mother playing loud music to fill the space he vacated. I knew now that my mother had been unhappy, back then I thought my mom just had really bad hearing a thing for Billy Joel.

Standing up, I glanced out at the window, stretching my thin arms above my head. The rain made light sounds against the roof like fingers tapping on a table. When I was younger, I'd lay in my bed and listen to the patterns they made against the tile, trying to find music in the way they landed. It was silly, but it would lull me to sleep and I'd dream of sun.

And still, all l I could see from beyond the glass was green and grey; the town was never changing.

My stomach grumbled then, low and fierce and I pressed my hand against the sound. It occurred to me that I hadn't eaten since the morning before. I had a habit of forgetting to eat. I was becoming the poster child for clinical depression and my medical predictability was humiliating.

I slipped my freezing feet into my slippers; a horrible, furry, pink pair my mother had chosen and headed out downstairs. The house had been big, even when a family of three was living inside. Walking the winding steps down, I wondered how lonely a solitary man must feel in a place like this. Feeling sorry for my dad lasted the amount of time it took for me to remember that he wasn't even here. My dad was never here.

It was while I was searching through the cabinets for cereal (and cursing Charlie's inability to properly stock on groceries), that I heard the door open. I startled, nearly dropping the bowl I had placed on the counter as I turned.

I did not expect my dad back for three more days. For a quick moment I thought he had come back from his trip early for me. The thought made me joyous and a little anxious. I had skipped out on my last couple visits with my dad, so it had been a little over a year since I had seen him. But that meant that it had also been a while since he had seen me. The last time I was here, I was blonde...and sane. I didn't know how nervous I was to see him until I started tugging at my shirt and soothing my frizzy hair.

But it wasn't my dad. It was a feminine voice that carried through the house, and a soft click of high heals against hardwood.

"Yeah," She was saying, "But I don't see why I always get dragged into this stuff. It's not my-" She broke off as she turned the corner and saw me, screeching and dropping her cellphone against the linoleum. It bounced and slid close to the table.

"Shit!" She screamed, covering her heart with her hand. She looked like she could be my age, maybe younger, which raised a concern as to what she was doing in my dad's house. Charlie had a tendency to chase the younger women. Though, he'd never been for anyone under 24, the possibility still hung in the air like a heavy accusation. "Who the hell are you?" She asked, gesturing at me with a flushed face.

"Uhm, I'm pretty sure that's something I should be asking you," I said, leaning my hands back against the counter. I could feel my brow creased in confusion, my heart pounding with alarm inside of my chest. "My dad didn't say he would have guests," I added. My dad didn't say much of anything. To me, at least.

"You're..." She trailed off, before her face softened into understanding. "Oh! Oh wow," She looked me over, eyebrows raised. "You're Charlie's daughter,"

She nodded to herself, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear and moving in toward her phone. "Crap," She murmured, flipping it over in her hands. "It's shattered,"

"So is my sense of security," I said, crossing my arms. "Wanna let me know how you got in?"

She grinned then, a bright toothy kind that lit up her whole face. She was pretty, despite the thick amounts of black eyeliner and curly black hair that fell in her face. She was gorgeous but far too young for my dad. Far, far, far too young.

She moved then, dangling a key around her index finger. "Got me a copy,"

I raised my eyebrows. "A copy of the house key? You guys must be serious then?"

"Come again?" She asked, distracted as she fiddled with her phone.

"With my dad, I mean,"

She looked up at me, alarmed for a moment before she busted out in laughter. She doubled over, covering her mouth. Such a strange laugh for a pretty girl to have, bellowing and loud.

"I'm not dating your dad!" She said finally flipping her hair out of her face. "Oh god, that's priceless," She wiped tears from her eyes. "I mean, your dad is handsome and all, but I'm sure he draws the line at teenagers and I'm not the type to go for anyone with more than a three year age difference," She shrugged. "It's my rule."

Nervous, I scratched the back of my neck."So why do you have a key exactly?" I began to wonder if I was having the proper response, or if I should be panicking. She didn't precisely look like a serial killer, all short and feminine, but looks can be deceiving.

She pressed her lips together. "Oh, well, gosh. It must have been...six years ago? Maybe five? Your dad gave me the keys to his place so I could water his plants and bring in his mail and stuff while he was away on business. Paid me a hundred bucks to do it too. It was sorta like my first job ever,"

"And now your his official plant life preserver?"

She snorted, slipping her cellphone in her pocket. "Not exactly" She stepped closer then, holding out her hand. "I'm Alice, your neighbor."

I smiled, a closed mouth sort that I didn't really mean. Her hand hovered in the space between us, nails painted a delicate pink and in all ways un aggressive. Except I still looked it it like it was a rabid dog. It's the polite thing to do, but I couldn't shake her hand. I couldn't. I can't.

"Isabella" I said, "Or Ella. Whichever. "

She nodded, pulling her hand back with a shrug. "Right. Well, Ella. Your presence here sort of ruins my little set up,"

"Your set up?"

"Yeah, it's been a long time since the plant care and I don't think he even remembers I have a key to be honest,"

"So you're breaking in?"

"Not breaking in!" She said, holding her hands up. "I'm not like, a thief or anything," She shuffled uncomfortably for a moment. "Shit, this is awkward. I just. I like to use his place for parties now and again. Innocent parties," She added for my benefit, because I'm sure my face flushed. "He's like, never home so it's not exactly like he's bothered. Sometimes he's gone for weeks at a time. And my parents aren't the 'go-ahead-and- host-a-party-at-my-place' sort of couple," She laughed nervously.

It seemed a pretty genius idea. Charlie's house was so secluded. It was the perfect secret party house. Or murder house.

"You can't have a party here," I said, horrified of the thought that I may have come downstairs to a room full of strangers and that people felt comfortable enough to break into someone else's house to casually use their home for a hot spot. I could feel the panic building in my stomach. Her face looked apologetic then, twisting in the sweetest sort of way.

"Well, I kind of already am, actually. Which I understand complicates things because," She gestured at me. "Long lost daughter has occupied the pad,"

Before I could answer, the front door opened again and a deep voice called out, "Alice?"

My wide eyes moved back to her and she smiled with reparation. Was this the party?

"In the kitchen," Alice called, turning toward where the murmured voices entered. Very luckily for me, it was not the start of the party. There were just two ordinary boys. One was very similar looking to Alice; pale skin, dark black hair and dark blue eyes. I wondered momentarily if they were related. Alice was tiny and this guy was all muscle, but they had the same exact round face and pouty lips.

The other boy was very much unlike the other two. His skin was a rich, deep color, like he had grew up in the sun, and his light blonde hair hung messily over his eyes. He towered over the other boy by several feet, and where the pale boy was stocky, he was very lean.

"My, my," The pale boy said. "Who's this?"

"This is Ella!" Alice said, grinning at me. "My super chill, not-gonna-call-the-cops friend."

"Hi," I said.

"Ella was short for something, right?" Alice asked, touching her chin with her index finger and glancing toward the ceiling. "Crap, what was it?"

"Nutella?" The pale boy asked, and the other boy snorted.

"Isabella," I corrected, so softly I'm not sure they heard me.

"You're stupid," Alice said, glaring at the boy then turning back toward me. "Ignore my brother. He has this terrible social deficiency that causes him to think he's super hilarious, when in fact he's about as dull as ditch water. We've tried every sort of remedy," She counted off her fingers, "Telling him to shut up, ignoring him, surrounding him with genuinely funny people...but nothing has worked. He is incurable,"

The boy grinned, crossing his hands over his chest. "Sticks and stones, Alice. "

She rolled her eyes, gesturing lazily at him. "This, unfortunately, is my brother Emmett." Her hand moved to the other boy, "And this is Elvis,"

I rose my eyebrows at the the tall boy who shrugged. "I know. It's a great injustice. I take it day by day,"

"His real name is Jasper, which really isn't much of an improvement" Emmett said, turning to frown at the boy. "Not exactly sure why Elvis caught on like it did, actually,"

"'Cause of my legendary dance moves," He answered, wiggling his brow at me.

"She's Charlie's daughter." Alice continued, "Scared the crap out of me. Dropped my new phone, too,"

"Ah," Emmett said. "That's what the disconnected call was about. I thought maybe you ran into a burglar or something,"

"She is the burglar," I said, frowning. "You all are. You can't just have parties at a stranger's house just because he's away."

"Charlie is not a stranger!" Alice said, "He's like a really chill...uncle. Sometimes he has dinner with our parents. He brings us little gifts from his travels,"

That made it worse somehow, that knowing when he would be gone had given them the opportunity to take advantage, and they had. "How many times have you broken in?"

"Not a lot,"

"We aren't breaking in,"

"Not sure,"

They all answered at once. I sighed.

"Well, like I was telling her, there is not going to be a party. Not tonight. Or ever again,"

"I assume you will be reimbursing us for all our red solo cups?" Emmett asked me.

"And all the alcohol," Elvis added, "We spent a shit ton on alcohol,"

"This is true," Emmett nodded. "This was going to be the party of the summer. Music, lights, and only the coolest people,"

"The hottest babes," Elvis added.

"You both are really helping to improve this terrible first impression," Alice said, looking back at me. "Your dad was going to be gone for the next couple days," she explained softly, seeming more guilty than her brother. "We were going to get it cleaned and back to normal by tomorrow,"

"How thoughtful," I mono-toned, wondering if my father really was so disconnected that he didn't have the slightest clue. I felt protective then, and embarrassed for him. "But you're going to need to find a new venue."

Alice sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "This is so lame,"

"What do you have against parties?" Emmett asked from over Alice's dark head. "Did you die at one in another life?"

"Emmett stop," Alice swatted his arm.

"I don't like parties. And I don't like a bunch of drunk people I don't know in my house,"

I don't like people and tight spaces, where there was the chance I could touch someone. Hurt them.

"Well, I may have exaggerated about the alcohol," Elvis said. "There's not that much. We are really only talking a bunch of 'buzzed' people in your house,"

"And that thing about all the coolest and sexiest people...sort of an exaggeration as well. We invited the whole senior class, which is really none of either," Emmett added.

"The whole senior class?" I pressed my lips together.

"If you knew how small that was," Alice clarified, "You wouldn't worry,"

"Well I am. Worrying I mean. I don't care how many people will be here, or what they look like or how drunk they will be. There is going to be no party,"

"Okay, okay," Alice turned, gesturing at them to leave with quick fingers. "Lets go, boys. We'll figure something out,"

"Well, shit," Emmett mumbled, following Elvis toward the front door. They disappeared behind the wall, a quietly mumbling as they did.

"Are you going to say something to my parents?"

I frowned, looking at Alice where she stood, hands casually on her hips.

"I don't know your parents,"

"Yeah but Charlie does, and I don't want to be grounded my whole senior year,"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "I wont say anything,"

She grinned, that big toothy sort again. "Thank you," Then the tilted her head, studying me for a quick, quiet moment.

"What?"

"Your dad was right," She gestured at me, from the top of my head to the bright pink of my slippers. "Your aura is like a forest green,"

"My what?"

She stepped close to me, her face level with my neck, she was so short. "What you have isn't a curse. You're not a monster,"

My eyes widened, heart hammered harder inside my chest. "I dont-"

She put her hands up. "I'll get out of your hair," And then she disappeared with the others. I listened as the front door shut, and as the quiet rumble of a car started outside. The whole while, my heart continued on, thumpthumpthump. Like it was about to fall out of my chest.

* * *

I watched my reflection, twisting my head back and forth. Forest green, she had said, yet all I saw was freckles and the already fading glow of a tan. I didn't know a darn thing about auras, save for what I've heard referenced to them in movies; some sort of unseen light that portrayed your soul or your feelings or whatever. What did forest green mean? I wouldn't have cared, had she not also used that word...monster. I was a monster. She was wrong, but how had she known to say it?

I turned away, fidgeting with my fingers uncomfortably. She had seen me, aura or not. She had seen some part of me in the ten minutes she stood beside me in my kitchen, that had taken me seventeen years to notice; a difference. I was different from other people, damaged, "cursed", abnormal. I had thought that so long as I didn't build relationships with people, no one could tell and no one could get hurt. The plan was to hid it for the rest of my life, and that plan was already shattered. Ten god damn minutes and she could already tell I was a freak.

I left the bathroom and wandered into my room, my slippers making weird, sticky noises against the hardwood.

She hadn't looked at me like she thought I was a freak, and I knew the look well. Jacob had looked at me that way, my friends, my mother...

Alice had this weird glint in her eyes like she understood and I struggled with the possibility that this was all just hopeful thinking. I wanted to badly for someone to understand that I was twisting the way I saw things. Surely she had no idea what I was capable of, or she would have run in terror but I couldn't shake the feeling that she knew enough. Enough about me that I didn't have to hid away completely.

The silence wrapped around me as I paced the floors of my bedroom, in no way relaxing as it had been the first couple days. It was suddenly strange and eerie, the quiet. I was like a strange secret, locked away in a mansion alone.

The Beast at least had talking tea cups.

I glanced out the dark sky from my bedroom window, turning over her words again.

_You're not a monster._

It was the weaker, selfish part of me that acted then, as I hurried to put on my shoes. If Alice knew anything at all about me, I was going to find out what it was.


End file.
